


Growing Up

by DatingSimProtagonist



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kid Fic, M/M, Please don't feed any babies strawberry yoohoo, Will add tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatingSimProtagonist/pseuds/DatingSimProtagonist
Summary: Dick Simmons is a single dad with only one place to turn, unfortunately, that place comes with a gang of unusual companions who plan on 'fixing his life' their way. Whatever that means.





	1. Crying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zekromic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zekromic/gifts).



> This is the result of procrastinating my other fics and some very important coursework. whoopsy. enjoy my suffering.

Heavy breaths that filled the air with a blinding fog left Simmons' blueing lips as he ran past late-night traffic, his feet crunching through unshovelled snow through the cold street.

He could have sworn, if you listened carefully, you could hear the universe taunting him for believing for a second that things were alright.

A small muffled whimper escaped a bundle of blankets in his arms and he slowed for a second, if only to silence it, "Shh, don't worry, we'll be there soon." He sped up again quickly, his words doing nothing to reassure or quiet the child. The night was getting quickly darker and he would ideally have taken a cab, but they weren't prone to enjoying the ride through his neighbourhood, lest they get mugged or their tires slashed. Even if one was willing to give him a lift, he couldn't afford the fair, even if he did know where he was going. Besides, there was something about the run that rendered his mind blank in the most satisfying way. As though if he closed his eyes and just stayed quiet, he'd disappear into the darkness forever. Crying brought him back to reality, a small nudge back into existence that he was less than grateful for as it pushed the fantasy away and reminded him that freezing to death with a child in his arms was never how he planned to die.

He kept running, taking deep breaths and regretting the inactivity that came with a once comfortable life. His prosthetic foot slipped as he ran across a large puddle of ice by the road and he only just managed to twist his body and fall so he landed on his back, keeping the crying child in his arms safe from colliding with the damaging floor.  
"Not long now," he managed to stand back up without the use of his arms, leaving the cracking ice and a few slithers of blood behind before he kept going, albeit, a little more cautiously now.

Street lights illuminated the distance as they found themselves in a nicer part of town and he counted the doors as he ran past, looking for anything familiar. The red one, it was the red one, with the roses and the violets in the garden.

He finally saw the door standing out amongst the other and let his body relax for a second knowing that he could sit down soon enough. Panting to get his breath back, he held the bundle closer and silenced its cries as he almost couldn't stop his own tears of joy. With a few careful steps, they walked up to the door. The garden was empty now and he reprimanded himself internally for not realising that the flowers wouldn't grow as well through the winter. Only now did he take a metal arm off the child to knock thrice against the wood, leaning against the door for stability in an attempt to stop the world from spinning around him.

Big mistake.

The door opened inwards and if it wasn't for two strong arms catching him, both he and the child would have fallen against a hard wooden floor, and at this point, Simmons wasn't sure he had the strength to stop the collision.

"Little late dontya think?" A gruff southern voice filled the silence of the night.  
Hearing that voice almost had Simmons crying again, but little more than a small whimper left him before he was helped back on his own two feet, unstable as he was.  
"Come on in, I'll make ya a drink"

* * *

  
Simmons quivered, brushing half melted snow from his now damp red hair as he curled up on the man's couch with a warm blanket hugging his shoulders and a cup in his hands that heated his icy fingers. The back of his hair was dyed a slightly darker red in a few places from his fall, but from what they could tell, a shower and a rest were all he needed to heal.

"Kicked out, huh?"

"It was only a matter of time, I haven't been able to pay rent in months," he sighed mechanically, as though the sound only left his lips because that was what he was supposed to do when he was fed up and exhausted. The same level of care didn't reach his face which stayed flat if only moving to sip at the drink and hold the cup close. It was too hot to drink properly, but the warm steam and the heat in his hands was comforting enough to calm his shaking. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

The older man sat up a little, taking a sip out of his own drink which was suspiciously pink but either Simmons hadn't seen it or had the courtesy to pretend not to. "You know you can stay here for as long as you want, that's why you came here right?"

"Sarge, I came here because-" he stopped speaking abruptly when he realised the other man was right and didn't say anything more as he was too stubborn to admit it.

"I'll help you get back on your feet, I know things have been difficult since Claire died."  
They both spent a few seconds in silence, or minutes, who knew? It wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, Simmons felt himself disappearing again. The aforementioned woman was the mother of the child which was now curled up in warmer blankets and snoozing happily in sarge's guest bedroom, or has Simmons saw her, his late wife.

"Thank you." he would never be able to pay back his friend for everything he had done for him over the years.

"Rest up, we'll sort something out in the morning," Sarge nodded to him and stood up. Simmons wasn't sure if he was leaving because he was uncomfortable or because he knew Simmons wanted to be alone. Either way, it was an action he appreciated. The older man finished the rest of his drink before saying a quick goodnight and leaving him alone.

Simmons sat in silence for a while, sipping his drink and staring blankly at a wall, his mind as empty as his cup had become. It didn't take long to lose the energy to drag himself upstairs and instead he unhooked his prosthetics, letting his arm and leg fall to the old run on the floor with a small metallic clang as his body relaxed from the loss of weight and he fell asleep on the couch with the comfort of central heating hugging him close. 


	2. Picky Eating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired and Word was being a bitch so enjoy my spelling mistakes until I can be arsed to come back and change them.

It was strange not to be woken by a screaming baby. There was always, Simmons found, something to scream about. Food, bills, work, more bills, the fact that he was left alone with his son, with no knowledge of children or how they worked, and no one to help him. Yeh. There was lots to scream about.  
Still, the lack of high pitched wailing scared him more than it should have and he sat up quickly trying not to read too much into it. "Sarge?" he called, hoping his friend would walk in any second with the child in his arms and Simmons could rest without worry, but that response didn't come and he found himself tensing even more.  
  
keep calm Simmons.  
  
He sat up and reached with his good arm for its metallic copy on the floor, reattaching it with a trained ease before grabbing his leg, doing his best not to fumble over them in a panic. Though he usually had a little trouble with this bit, he got it on quickly and without checking to make sure they were stable, walked to the stairs, deeply regretting not going up there to sleep with his son for the night and keeping a close eye on him.  
  
"Sarge?" he called again as he reached the top of the landing. He'd been here a fair few times in his life, but they were in the distant past and he got shivers from the nostalgia as phantom scents of alcohol and vomit came to mind. 'Good' times.  
  
"Yeh?" Oh, thank god. Every time Simmons heard that voice he was sure it got better and better sounding, so without resign he followed it in to the guest bedroom where he was happy yet surprised to see the older man carrying his son, who for once in his short life remained quiet as he suckled on a presumably warm bottle, a clean diaper resting against his skin, even if it was on him incredibly awkwardly.  
  
"I was... worried" he let out a sigh and offered his arms out to take the child, rocking him softly as he kept the bottle in his lips, "You should have let me know he was awake, i would have woken up to take care of him."  
  
"He was no trouble at all, i can take care of him, its easier than taking care of you," The older man seemed sad to pass him back but didnt say anything, "I got up, made him a drink and changed his diaper and his clothes." Simmons looked down at him, the childs diaper was somehow on sideways and was the milk in the bottle pink? Still, it warmed his heart to see the other care so much. "Thank you Sir." The last word left his mouth like a reflex and they shared a look and a small laugh before simmons pulled the bottle away.  
  
"Is this milk pink?" Of course it was.  
  
"Figured he could use the calcium."  
  
"Theres calcium in normal milk you know," He unscrewed the lid and took a sip of the pink liquid, unsuprised to find the taste of strawberry milkshake fill his mouth. He sighed. "Thanks for helping me out" he smiled, figuring sarge was more used to dealing with stroppy teenagers than new borns.  
  
"Well, just let me know if theres anything i can do. I dont plan on rotting away like an old fool anytime soon."  
  
"Never," Simmons thought for a second, "If youre offering, breakfast might be nice?"  
  
"Coming right up."  
  
Sarge left the room to make their food as simmons perched himself on the bed cradling his child close, "Come on, lets sort you out." Dispite his words, he didnt move for a minute or so just enjoying the peace. He had more time for this lately, and he wasnt sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. Eventually he got up and lay the boy down against a mat on the dresser.  
  
His chubby arms reached up for his father and he gurggled happily as he tried to reach for his hair. Simmons smiled at his son, and ran his hand through the red tuft of hair on his soft head. "Just give me a second."  
  
He undid the tape on the diaper and corrected it so he no longer had both legs sticking out of one hole, "Thats better" at least Sarge was trying.  
  
A few minutes later, they were heading downstairs and he was greeted by a smell that made his mouth water. Without a highchair to put his son in, Simmons kept his sat on his knee, bouncing softly to keep him happy and occupied so he stopped reaching for the knife on the table. "I'll get you something in a second, just hush for now Jamie." As any parent would know, talking did nothing, and he resigned himself to bouncing his leg as he ate, sarge having gone outside, presumably to sneak a cigarette.  
  
Every so often he'd see the man peek in through the window, most likely not wanting simmons to find out he was smoking near his child. As far as simmons was concerned, so long as he was outside, Jamison would be okay.  
  
He finished eating quickly, not having savoured a meal since the boys birth, and walked to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of milk, this one white and actually healthy for the growing boy. He placed it in the microwave and when he was sure sarge wasnt looking, poured the strawberry yoohoo down the sink. It wasnt that he disliked the drink, he just didnt want his child to be obese before his first birthday.

* * *

  
  
The day went on pretty much the same way their morning had begun. Simmons was quickly discovering that as much as he tried, Sarge was not trust worthy around children, or as the man himself liked to put it, they simply had 'different parenting styles'.  
  
Simmons was sat on the floor by Sarges television, cartoons graced the screen and he found himself humming along to the theme tune as he wrapped up a dirty diaper and pulled out a fresh one to wrap around his son. "See, you pull the tags like this"  
  
Sarge stood behind him watching like a learning child, oh how times change. "I still think the way i do it is better..."  
"well this is safer"  
  
"It looks too big for him!"  
  
"Trust me Sarge, hes perfectly fine." He sat the boy up and yawned, leaning back against the couch with a sleepy smile.  
  
"Tired already?"  
  
To be honest, his mind simply feigned sleepiness so he could avoid bringing up the topic of what he was going to do. He couldnt live here forever. Still, he nodded, "yeh"  
  
"I'll let you get some sleep." The other man didnt even seem close to bringing up the topic. Simmons wouldnt be able to stay here for long without the dark cloud of guilt following him everywhere, maybe he knew. Probably. "Night."  
  
"Night."  
  
He relaxed back rocking Jamison closely, though he knew the child had fallen asleep a short while ago, the motion soothed him. "we'll get through this."  
As he had the night before, he placed the boy in the guest bedroom, letting him sleep comfortably, and returned to the couch with the intentions to watch some television and then maybe go to bed.  
  
He fell into the same routine and once more his body argued that walking upstairs wouldnt be good in this state and after his metalic limbs cluttered the floor, he fell asleep against it's soft pillows.

It was about 1am. Normally when simmons woke up at this time, it was to the sound of crying and the smell of a dirty diaper, not a crushing weight against his form, pushing his face into the arm of the couch, "Wha-" his breath left him as the weight moved and he tried to see what it was. A large snore at least pointed it to be a person, but after an hour of struggling, simmons resigned to the fact that he was infact, going to die, crushed to death on his bestfriends couch by a man who smelled distinctly of rum and cigarettes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please like and comment, it really does help and big thanks to @Zekromic for betaing this, Sorry you have to put up with me binge watching happy hour and drinking all your chocolate milk. Love you x


	3. Sleepless Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Either I have the motivation to write and it turns out terrible, or I don't have the motivation, but my writing turns out alright.
> 
> Unfortunately today I had motivation.

Staying up all night rocking a child back to sleep? Yeh, Simmons had been there, Staying up all night with friends? Of course everyone did that growing up, but staying up all night as a result of being crushed to death? Admittedly, it was a new experience.

The red-head jumped awake slightly, every couple of hours or so he'd be able to fall asleep, only to be abruptly woken as the man on top of him moved to get comfortable. By the time the morning came, not only was he exhausted, but every bone in his body ached more than he thought was possible.

He wasnt sure what time it was, but just as he was coming to grips with the fact that he was going to be stuck here, the man on top of him yawned and woke a little.

"Hey! Get off me, asshole!" He called desperately trying to get him off, and though his voice wasnt as loud as he wanted it to be, but it made the man groan with slightly more awareness.

"My pillow... is talking?" The man sat up and while Simmons was happy he could now breath properly again, all of the mans weight rested on his waist, sharp pain digging into his hip bones.

"Off. NOW!" Whoever it was, stood up and looked down at Simmons, rubbing his eyes tiredly, one hand running through his hair as he wobbled slightly where he stood. "Great, now I smell like you." Simmons sniffed at his shirt and pulled a face, he didnt have any spare clothes either. He turned his attention back to the man who must have been a few inches smaller than Simmons, though a fair amount fatter, a weight Simmons had put up with for no less than 10 hours.

"Who the hell are you?" The man said, and Simmons glared daggers, reaching for his prosthetic arm.

"Who am i? Youre not even going to apologise for passing out on me?! literally every part of my body hurts because of you!" he reached for his leg after attaching his arm, wincing at the pain as he did so.

"Me apologise? Youre the one who was asleep on MY bed, what did you expect?"

"Bed? This is a couch! If you wanted to sleep so bad why didn't you use the spare room?" Okay, maybe the man falling asleep here was a blessing. Simmons would rather be stuck there for hours than have Jamie be.

"Because im not allowed" the other bit back, "Now why don't you explain what a complete stranger is doing in my house?"

"This house belongs to Sarge!"

"Well i live here either way!"

Arguing was getting them nowhere but Simmons was too angry to start explaining why he was here and apparently the other man was too. Or he was just hung over. Or a mixture of both. Probably the latter.

Luckily, he found an excuse to leave when he heard crying coming from upstairs.

"Is that a baby? Why is there a baby here?!" Simmons ignored him and stood up, walking straight past him to go and help the child. "Fine. Ignore me!" he heard called. Simmons ignored that too.

\---

By the time Simmons had gotten upstairs, the crying had stopped and he was unsurprised but happy to Sarge rocking the boy. "Youre awake" Simmons figured it was the closest he'd get to a 'good morning' from the man. "And you smell like beer?"

"Yeh, about that, can i borrow some clothes?" he yawned. "Theres someone in your living room and his first thought last night was to smother me in my sleep." He took the child, preparing to go downstairs to warm him a bottle of milk after getting changed.

"Yeh, check the wardrobe, who's down stairs?"

"I'm not sure," he held a hand up, "About this tall? Kinda fat?"

"Oh god" Simmons raised an eyebrow and watched as Sarge left the room, hearing his footsteps against the stairs. "Grif! What did i tell you about coming here?"

Whatever was said in response went completely unknown by Simmons, who was searching through the spare wardrobe before pulling out a shirt. He rested Jamie against the bed as he changed, even if the top was far too big for him. Luckily with the help of a belt, he didn't have the same problem with the pants. With a sigh he sat next to Jamie, though he found the spare bed to be far too comfortable for its own good. He'd had a rough night, it shouldnt hurt too much to just lie down for a second and close his eyes for a few minutes. It was still early after all.

\---

With a groggy hum and a hand rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Simmons woke up. Shit, what time was it? And where the hell was Jamie? He sat up with a little jump and looked around, quickly running out of the room and down the stairs, his metallic leg banging against the floor loudly with his speed.

"Geez, what's that?" Great, it was the same man from this morning.

Simmons walked into the kitchen, trying not to seem visibly panicked. He glared at the man who, in his mind, had started all of this.

He relaxed and smiled when he saw Jamison sat on the table, apparently it was easier than not to lose the baby in this house.

Jamie was sat happily, both tiny hands wrapped gripping onto a cookie? Simmons couldn't see properly, but the child grinned toothlessly up to him as he tried to eat. "What is that?"

"Oreo" the man from that morning responded.

"Thanks, but he isn't on solid food yet." Still, he was starting to teethe and the way the child happily gnawed on the cookie stopped Simmons from taking it off him.

"I was just trying to help and stop him crying"

"Was falling asleep on me helping?" 

"Dont start that again."

They glared at one another for a while as Simmons sat down across from him on the table, Jamie half crawling over not having figured out how to crawl yet. Simmons picked him up and held him on his knee.

"Where's Sarge?"

"Smoking"

Simmons nodded.

"So... who are you again?"

"Oh, yeh... this morning." He thought back to it and found himself internally annoyed before he sighed and calmed down, "I'm Simmons. I'm uh, one of Sarge's old students"

"So why are you here?"

"I'm too tired to explain. I shouldnt be here for long anyway" he rested against the back of the seat. "Who are you supposed to be anyway?"

"Dexter Grif, Im Sarge's uhh, nephew."

"Nephew? I didn't know sarge had a nephew."

"Yeh, neither of us are too happy about it."

"I can see why."

"Fuck you."

"language... there's a baby here."

Grif smiled over to him though sarge walked through the door not long after and the smile left his face.

"Id keep the baby away from him if you want it to grow up tolerable" The older man said as he sipped from a mug of coffee.

Simmons stifled a laugh and looked away to hide it from Grif. "I'll keep that in mind"

\---

It had already hit 6 in the evening when Simmons had woken up from his nap and come downstairs to find the pair, in fact, it was already approaching 8 o'clock. Simmons was sat on the floor, holding Jamie steady as the boy attempted to crawl across the floor.

"Is that normal?"

He looked up to grif. "Is what normal?"

"He can't crawl."

"He's a baby."

"So? Cant babies crawl?"

"It takes time to learn, idiot."

"Sure."

"Dont worry Simmons." Sarge looked over, "So long as he doesn't wind up like Grif, he'll be fine."

"Dont you have to get to work?" Grif sat down with a small thud, holding out his hands to encourage the child to crawl to him.

"I should but I don't trust you here alone"

"I'll make sure nothing happens Sarge. This place'll be just how you left it when you get back" The older man was reassured by Simmons though still glared cautiously at grif.

"Fine. I'll see you in the morning" As weary as he was about leaving grif alone, the man had night classes to teach.

A few minutes later, the front door closed and the man was gone, leaving two men and a baby.

"So... wanna go out for a drink?"

"A dri- I have a baby to look after!"

"Call a sitter"

"I can't afford a sitter."

"Then call a friend"

Simmons glared. Maybe if he had many he would call them, But since Jamie was born, he hadn't had much time to 'hang'.

"Fine. But you're missing out. Just make sure you're not on the couch tonight because im not being kind this time."

"You werent kind last time"

The larger man stuck his tongue out and grabbed a jacket from the sofa. "If you do find a babysitter, we're at a club called Amnesia, its hard to miss."

"Thanks for the invite, but like I said, I'm not coming."

"Your loss" It was apparently Grifs way of saying goodbye before he left, leaving Simmons all alone in Sarges home.

He sighed and lay back on the floor, the pressure of Jamie on his stomach was strangely nice and he didn't move for a while, just laying down and counting each breath. Maybe he should take up meditation. Maybe this was meditation. At this point he'd take whatever he could to relax and ease into life a little slower.

Yes, everything had gone wrong before now, but he was here. Lying down against a hard wood floor, every day a step closer to getting his life back on track.

After a while he sighed and sat up. Jamie was sleeping soundly. He was a good child. Simmons scooped him up into his arms and slowly took him upstairs, resting him on the mattress in a crib made of pillows. He kissed his forehead and lay down next to him, not tired, but with little else to do, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I realised that when Grif and Simmons first met it was a rocky start but they didn't hate each other and so I didn't want to stray from that. Also thank god im doing a health and social course at college so I know how babies develop and grow.
> 
> Turns out education is good for something.


	4. Up After Bedtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have gone a little too far with the Grif and Simmons moments this chapter. Whoops.

Once again Simmons was woken up early. He stared at the blaring red numbers on the digital alarm clock next to him as it turned to 00:47.

Sighing, he rolled over to look at Jamie whos cries seemed louder than usual when accompanied with the exhaustion of being woken up in the middle of the night. Still, a protective parental instinct kicked in and he looked down at the boy, "Shh, shh, its okay" he whispered, cupping the back of the child's head as he picked him up and rocked him in his arms. He murmured quiet comforts, though considering the boy couldn't understand, they were mainly for himself.

Over half an hour had passed, and the clock taunted him as it turned 01:29, the boy screamed on and on and Simmons sighed, still rocking him and holding him close as he walked downstairs in the dark to get to the fridge and his food.

Grif, apparently, wasn't back yet. He wasn't on the couch at least. Simmons walked to the kitchen, accidentally stubbing his toe on the table. It was rare he was thankful for having a prosthetic leg. "Shh, shh, shh." He continued, trying and failing to silence the child as he opened the fridge, its light was blinding in the darkness and lighting up the kitchen behind him. He grabbed a bottle of milk, only about a day's worth of food remaining, he'd need to go shopping. You know. With all that money he doesn't have. He placed the bottle in the microwave and hummed, continuing to rock Jamie.

"Jesus, does that kid ever shut up?" A voice came.

Simmons looked around the room but he couldn't see anyone, even after turning on the kitchen light- an action he regretted greatly after his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"God damn it, turn that off, it's so bright!"

He looked over to the back door, where he was sure the voice was coming from. The microwave finished and pinged making him jump slightly before he turned to grab the bottle. Finally, Jamie was silenced as he started to drink, his tiny hands and fingers wrapped around the bottle. He wasn't capable of holding it up himself so Simmons kept his hand on it as he walked to the door, awkwardly having to turn the handle with his elbow. "Hello?"

He looked out and saw grif sat in the back garden on a bench overlooking a barbeque and plants. Simmons could smell the alcohol where he stood. "Turn the light off." a fair amount of smoke left his lips as he talked and he raised his hand to ash an almost completely finished cigarette. Simmons took a step back into the kitchen for Jamie's sake and flicked the light switch leaving the pair left under the light of the moon and distant passing cars.  
"you seem pretty coherent for the amount of alcohol I smell."

"It's a practised art," Grif nodded and put out the butt of his cigarette on the wooden armrest of the bench, tossing it over to the neighbours garden.   
"There's a bin right there you know." Simmons carefully rocked his child, not wanting to set him off crying again as he was already getting to the end of his drink.  
"The bin doesn't complain and tell me to turn down the tv when the new season of Battlestar Galactica is announced."

"Battlestar Galactica hasn't been out since like 2009."

"I got hopeful... turns out it was just reruns," The man shrugged and Simmons dictated it safe to step outside and sit down next to him.

"Ugh, you stink of smoke."

"What did you expect me to smell of?"

"I don't know. Something a little less depressing?" He shrugged and leaned back. The night was cold but nice and to make sure Jamie was okay, he kept him close and warm as possible.

"Very funny."

They stayed like that in silence for a while. The background sounds of occasional sirens, distant shouting from those out for the night drinking, cats fighting, it all added up to some kind of urban white noise.

"Hey, dude." The perfect non-silent silence was interrupted. "You look like you're about to fall asleep. Maybe you should head to bed" The man himself got up and stretched, "I am anyway. Night I guess."

"Night" he stayed out a little longer watching an aeroplane fly overhead before it went out of sight and he found the energy to get up and walk back to bed, taking off the limbs he'd accidentally slept in before, and curling up in bed.

* * *

  
"Morning. I see Jamie slept well."

"I still argue that that's a stupid name." Simmons hadn't even entered the living room that next morning before he had 2 voices complaining about one thing or another. the sun shined through the window taunting him from his lack of sleep. He looked over to sarge and grif who were in a heated battle over whether or not the name of his son was 'stupid'. Seriously, how was grif even up this early after spending all night drinking? Did he sleep at all?

"Stupid or not, its a better name than Dexter" Simmons bit back defensively as he took a seat.

"Oh yeh, well it's better than yours."

"you don't even know my first name!"

"Then tell me"

Simmons paused, "...That's not fair, I'm an easy target"

"That's what I thought."

He sighed and looked over to sarge. "I'm sorry if we woke you up last night, he's teething and there isn't much I can do about it..."

"Maybe you should calm yourself down first, maybe go out and relax, have a drink or something" Sarge suggested strangely quickly.

"That's kind of difficult with a child to look after" he shrugged thinking that'd be the end of that. He was a dad, he had more important things to worry about and the topic wasn't mentioned again for a while.

* * *

  
Sometime around 3 grif went out again and Simmons was confused as to how the man functioned on only Oreos, cigarettes and alcohol. The father was once again sat on the living room floor, encouraging Jamie to crawl over to him.

"Are you sure you don't want to go out?" He looked up at sarge a little surprised the man had brought it up again.

"I'm sure. I have to stay here and look after him" he looked back to Jamie who was semi-successfully making his way over. "even if I wanted to, I couldn't afford it"

"Being stuck in here this whole time isn't going to help you at all. I'll give you a bit of money, it'll help all of us if you relax"

The red-head genuinely considered it for a second. It had been months since he'd gone out with friends or so much as thought about having a drink. There wasn't really much time for it when Jamie was born. "what about Jamie?" He asked, looking up at him.

"I'll take care of him. So long as you promise not to come stumbling in drunk."

They both smiled to themselves through nostalgia and Simmons felt a little guilty he had gone so long before without seeing the other man. "I promise."

"good"

Sarge took Jamie and Simmons went upstairs to get changed, though, with only sarges clothes at his disposal, nothing fit particularly well. He managed to pull out some pants which must have belonged to him when he was younger because they fit Simmons fairly well, and grabbed another shirt which was still too big, but he wasn't trying to impress anybody.

"I won't be out too long" he reassured sarge who was trying to hide the fact that he'd just been playing an enthusiastic game of peek-a-boo with a giggling child.

"Take your time."

Simmons stepped outside, the street lamps had just turned on despite the fact that it wasn't particularly dark yet. He quickly realised as he walked down the road that he had no idea where he was going. Walking steadily on the ice- not wanting to trip again, his head still hurt from that- he found himself passing bar after bar until he came across a large blue and purple sign which brought up a memory.

* * *

  
'Amnesia', he was sure, was where grif had said he usually was. It couldn't hurt to look, and even if he wasn't there, he could still treat himself.  
Walking into the club wasn't easy with the people pushing around and he was surprised he wasn't crushed. There was a lot of crushing happening these past few days.

"Didn't expect to see you here" Simmons looked up and sure enough Grif was there.

"yeh, figured I'd take sarges advice" For a second, the idea of a drink with someone who could be even slightly considered a friend - or more of a slightly tolerable acquaintance - was nice. Until three others showed up by Grifs side making Simmons freeze up a little. For somebody who was supposed to be a strong role model for his son, he wasn't particularly good around large crowds that were actually trying to talk to him.

"These are my 'friends'" he gestured the quotation marks around the word 'friends' and one of the men swatted at him lightly. "Donut, Tucker and Doc"

They sounded like a terrible band.

"come on, let's get you a drink" Donut, A tall man with blond hair and a pink shirt reading 'real men wear pink' wrapped his arm around Simmons' shoulders as they walked up to the bar ordering a drink that Simmons didn't recognise. He was the youngest there and it still somehow made him feel old.

"You're the guy with the kid right?" Tucker? He was pretty sure that was this one's name, he had dark skin, tied back dreadlocks and sat by his other side. "I have one of my own, just started high school" He looked into the distance happily and Simmons accidentally let anxieties about Jamie's future get to him. He ignored himself, he was supposed to be relaxing after all, and smiled as a drink was presented. "so what are you doing living with Grif?"

"Technically I'm living with Sarge..." he corrected him and took a sip. God, it was strong. "I got kicked out of my apartment."

"That's happened to me before, you'll find somewhere soon"

"Hopefully" He didn't like this topic and focused on his drink hoping it would change soon.

"I'm sure we can find a way to help if you need it," Doc, That was his 'name', Chimed in and Simmons smiled. Even if it was an empty promise from strangers in a bar, it was a nice one.

The rest of the night went quickly, though nicely. As soon as one drink was finished, another was summoned following the whine of 'come on, it's just one more' and Simmons relived days he thought he'd never see again since having a baby.

He was sad when they had to go home, the drunk part of him was at least.

Both Grif and Simmons found themselves pushed into the back of doc's car, the man, still fully sober, offering to drive them home, not trusting either to get home safely with the ice that covered the sidewalks.

The two amused themselves for the journey until they arrived at Sarge's house and were let out, Simmons instantly grabbing onto the larger man as he slipped slightly on ice. Grif didn't seem to care.

"See you later!" They both called and doc waved back to them, heading home. simmons laughed. He didn't know why.

Getting up the stairs to the front door was an insanely difficult task but they made it and let themselves in, the house seeming much more empty and silent compared to the club.

As drunk as grif was, Simmons was apparently worse- he'd drunk half of what the others had, maybe parenthood really did change your tolerance. Either way, grif left them both to the couch to sleep, not trusting Simmons to try the stairs.

"Sleep in the chair" he pointed, his words slightly slurred and he lay on his back on the couch. Seconds later he felt a heavy weight on his stomach and opened his eyes to see Simmons. "that's not the chair."

"I wanna sleep here"

"I'm sleeping here" He tried to push him off but a combination of laziness and the alcohol made the action fail.

"Consider it payback for the other night"

"You're lighter than I am"

"Then I'll have to keep doing it won't I?"

In his drunken state, that seemed like a perfectly reasonable reason to let the other man sleep on him and he laughed, placing his hands on Simmons back before closing his eyes at the same time as the other man, the pair falling asleep together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future reference:   
> Simmons is 23,   
> Grif and Tucker are 24,   
> Doc and Donut are 26.
> 
> I'm super hungry as I write this but I've already eaten 2 packets of noodles T_T

**Author's Note:**

> A very short opening to a fic that's been on my mind for a while.  
> This is probably gonna have fairly consistent updates unlike my other fic (i know what happens in it and I'm scared to write it out.), but the chapters are going to be short (around 500-100 words each), if I give myself a limit i find that I'm just writing filler content and if I'm bored writing it, I'm guessing you guys will be bored reading it. Anyways, please like and comment.
> 
> P.S. To the one I love more than Geoff Ramsey, I promise to keep this one happy. :-)


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